Stop
by Movies-R-Us
Summary: Arthur is attacked during a dream, and is physically and sexual tortured for information. The only thing that can make it worse? Eames is there to see it all. ArthurXEames: WARNING- Noncon, violence, language and my terrible writing
1. Chapter 1

Arthur turned his head at Cobb's call, but before he could reply the butt of a gun smashed into his temple; knocking him unconscious instantly.

When he awoke Arthur was certain he was still in the dream—either that or he had been transported to their target's base of operations in Thailand, and he highly doubted that. His arms were duct-taped behind the chair he was uncomfortably thrown into, and his feet were bound to the legs. He was completely immobile.

"Hey—hey! Guys, he's waking up." A deep and throaty voice wailed from beyond Arthur's range of sight. But, Arthur noted, there was no accent to the clearly American voice, and that meant he was somewhere in the dreamscape. There was a chance at safety.

"Get him the fuck up." This voice was closer than the others, and seconds after he heard it a fierce slap echoed around the room, and his head began to spin. "You're Arthur. Right?"

The command startled Arthur, but he still managed a slight nod. By this time his eyes were adjusting to the small amount of light in the room, and he recognized it as the backroom of a warehouse Ariadne had built—if he were to escape it would be simple to find himself back with the others.

"Tell us what you and your _accomplices_ are doing here, and speak fast or you won't wake up so easily." Again it was the closer man speaking, and he sounded true to his words, so Arthur began,

"What do you mean? We were hired to come in here and… gather information Mr. Hurtz had forgotten," the momentary stutter in Arthur's voice had been all the gang needed; they knew he was lying.

This time Arthur wasn't so lucky—the thud of the hammer breaking three of his toes was sickening; Arthur would've thrown up had he not remembered he was dreaming. Slow breaths circulated in and out of his lungs, but the pain was still flashing, and he couldn't suppress a whimper of pain. The goons began laughing.

"Trying to be a tough guy?"

"Don't he look cute trying to pretend it don't hurt?"

"I say we give 'im something to whimper about!" The last voice was lusty and almost a purr. Arthur felt a hand slither up his thigh and quickly retreat with the sound of a slap. "Hey, you said we could do anything to make him talk!"

"No matter how idiotic you are… you may be onto something with this one," spoke the close-man. He stepped into Arthur's line of sight and got on his knees. "You have another ten minutes to give us the information we want. If you go over those ten minutes and we don't know jack-shit… well I'm sure you won't want to find out what happens next." The last words were made clearer when the man put his hands on the insides of Arthur's thighs and squeezed. Arthur tensed and yet again suppressed his gag reflex's reaction.

"We'll be back soon honey, and I want you to know—_I don't think you should tell us anything_." The four men left the room, but Arthur had the prickling feeling that there were security cameras lining the room—waiting for him to make a decision.

Seconds ticked by mercilessly, and Arthur struggled—with no results—to remove his bindings. He knew that if he gave any information to these men that Mr. Hurtz would, upon waking up, either find all of them, or go to the police. Both of these options left Cobb, Eames, Ariadne and Yusef out of a job and maybe even sentenced to jail time. Why was this so hard for him? It was simple really, just suffer his way through and when the time ran out, wake up. So why couldn't he force himself to do it? No… he _had _to. There. That was that, no one had to know what he suffered through. Really, it was just in a dream, no one was _really _touching him like that, and as these thoughts came to him, the door opened.

"It's been eight minutes. You have two minutes to tell us everything we need ta know, so spill." Close-man came up towards Arthur and put his hands on the shoulders of the 3-piece suit Arthur swore to never wear again.

"No."

"Awww. You think you can resist us? That's sweet. Well, unfortunately for you—you have another minute and ten seconds, and we have another incentive." Close-man stepped aside and in walked a fifth man and trailing behind him, wearing handcuffs and several bruises, was Eames. Arthur's heart dropped to his stomach—no way was he going to let them touch him like that with Eames there. He'd never let him live it down.

"He—hello, darl—," Eames' words were raw and cut off by another stream of fists.

"Eames…" the word came from Arthur's lips almost as a whisper. He turned to his captors and, quietly as he could, begged, "Please… just not in front of him."

"See now we have a problem. Neither one of you will talk. But, I'm sure that you, Arthur dearest, will talk very quickly when we give Eames a little show." Close-man purposefully kneeled down onto Arthur's broken toes, and the resulting gasp of pain surprised Eames, who'd never seen the Pointman vulnerable before.

"Eh, guys, come on. Let's let Arthur darling go. I'm sure he'll not give up a thing, even being sliced in front of me." Eames' voice was the only comforting thing in the entire warehouse—it was familiar and it was sane. Still, Arthur could not imagine Eames being in the room during the… he shivered… _show. _

"Oh… so you want to stay then? Well boys, it's been OVER ten minutes, so let's not keep either of our guests waiting. But, Arthur, if you give us the information right now we promise to not hurt Eames anymore than necessary." This time it was the fifth man who spoke, and as he did he took out a wrench and bashed Eames' knee in. The resulting yelp was terrifying.

"Don't tell them anything Arthur. The others will finish without us, and everything will turn out… fine." Even Eames didn't sound convinced while speaking his last words.

"Alright then boys, let's begin." Close-man spoke the words and immediately followed them.

Eames was gagged and tied to a chair, one that was faced directly towards the side of Arthur's—giving him a full view of the events that followed.

Close-man pulled out a knife and slowly, but not carefully, cut Arthur's coat and shirt off. The trails of blood running down his abdomen were gushing, but the cuts were not deep—it barely stung Arthur at all.

Eames, still unaware of what he was about to witness remained calm and controlled. He had witnessed torture before, but this time it was falling upon the one person on the entire Earth he could consider himself in love with. It had been growing for years, but it was the Inception project that had finally confirmed his suspicions of love. The glances and soft touches he had bombarded upon the Pointman had gone mostly unnoticed, but when Arthur seemed to notice them, he did nothing to stop it. Eames had seen the kiss Arthur and Ariadne had shared, but he didn't believe it meant anything—a peck was nothing compared to what he had dreamed of doing to Arthur.

Suddenly Eames was pulled from his thoughts by a gasp from his darling Arthur. What he saw next would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Arthur controlled his breathing, and remained tranquil as the men stripped him of his upper clothing, but could not suppress his gasp of shock when he felt his belt being pulled from its loops. Suddenly his button and zipper were open, and the close-man was yanking down the pants he used to adore.

Eames' eyes went wide, and the pain on Arthur's face made him want to kill each and every man in the room with a bloody chainsaw.

Arthur tried to hold back the tears, but several slid silently down his cheeks as his final pieces of clothing were removed. Now—naked in front of five nameless men—he sniffled and squirmed. His priority was still to make sure his eyes never connected with Eames', but Eames had not let his eyes leave Arthur's tear stricken, and pained face. Eames began to roar with anger, and he yanked against his bindings; kicking and squirming to no end.

"Shhhh. Baby, this won't hurt at all. I promise to make it nice for you too." Close-man began to whisper into Arthur's ear, but the words did nothing more than make Arthur's tears run more profusely down his face. Suddenly he felt a hand glide up his thigh, and begin to stroke the head of his cock. He whimpered in disgust, but that only earned him a groan of pleasure from one of the men holding Eames.

The man began to dip his head towards Arthur's member when he heard Eames' shout.

"Stop! This has gone on enough, I'll just tell you what you want to know." Eames' outburst surprised no one in the room more than it did Arthur.

"Wow, that's surprising. I haven't even gotten to the good stuff and you're already running scared. Well, I have the power here so… I chose to skip the offer. But, I'm sure you'll be just as willing to tell me what I want to know in… oh… let's say… five minutes?"

"Please. Me instead! Not him. Just not him!" Eames' heard the begging spew from his lips, but could do nothing to stop it. He realized how pathetic he looked; thrashing and begging.

"Hush hush. Five more minutes and then we'll think about it again." Close-man then left his lips spread and slowly engulfed all of Arthur's length in seconds. Arthur tried to kick out in protest, and he yanked his hips away, but this only gave the man on him more pleasure. Eames' watched in horror, but even more so when he began to get hard—the looks of stifled pleasure on Arthur's face were beautiful. Arthur knew he shouldn't be enjoying it, but he couldn't help it. Conflicted, he continued to whimper and tug at his wrists.

"Ay! This one seems to be enjoying the show a little too much." A man holding Eames had noticed his problem, and only made the situation worse by shouting it to the close-man.

Arthur's face went red when he realized what had been said. This was the first time in six months someone had seen his naked body, and they were all men. Even more than that, one of the men was Eames. He was so lost in thought that he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips. He began to scream,

"Stop it! I'll tell you everything. Let me go. Now. Please. Stop. Stop. St-Stop. S-S-Stop." He began to let his guard down and shed more tears as the sucking continued. Closer-man's tongue went from the base to the tip and back again before wrapping casually around the head. Then he began to bob wildly against Arthur, massaging his thighs in the process. As Arthur began to lose control he started to plead again, this time with nothing more than the word no. He continued, over and over and over again.

"No… no… no… no… no…" and then he had his head thrown back and his non-broken toes curling. His moan of extasy rattled around the entire room, before he heard an identical moan emanate from Eames. And for the first time that night he looked into Eames' eyes; what he saw there left him both scared, and oddly happy. His naked body was making Eames hard.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N—Hey anyone who's still bothering to read this! I'm sorry this took so long, I'm just finding it hard to come up with ideas! Gah! Okay, so basically this is going to be a short-ish chapter, and I'm hoping the next one is longer. I'm only planning to make this three chapters long, and the ending might be rather fluffy. SORRY! Hope you enjoy though!**

_** And for the first time that night he looked into Eames' eyes; what he saw there left him both scared, and oddly happy. His naked body was making Eames hard. **_

Without further warning Arthur was unbound and thrown harshly onto the concrete floor. His eyes were streaked with tears and he could hardly see a foot in front of him, and because of this he didn't see the knife as it approached his limp form.

Eames watched, filled with horror, as the knife was buried to the handle in Arthur's thigh. The man doing the cutting yanked the blade several inches towards Arthur's knee before twisting. Eames could not stop his silent sobs from tearing through his body; heaving and shaking he tried, yet again, to free himself. All he gained was a kick to the groin.

Arthur's screams were blood curdling as close man flipped him over and straddled his thighs. There was absolutely nothing the Point Man could do to stop the imminent.

"Eames… don't w-watch," Arthur's whimpered pleas were painful for Eames, but he couldn't listen; his eyes were fixated on Arthur's quivering body. His battling emotions both told him to watch; one in longing, the other in morbid curiosity. But, the butterflies in his stomach telling him that this was what he'd dreamt of for years were nothing compared to the drums pounding in his head saying this was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen.

"Shhh baby, shh," Close-man whispered into Arthur's ear before his tongue slide along the Point Man's jaw. Arthur's body shook with a sob, but he didn't let his body betray him, until he felt a hand on his member—rubbing it harshly. He now began to shake, knowing what was to happen next.

Two fingers were roughly shoved past Arthur's clenched jaw, and after finding what little saliva they could, were removed. Only seconds later they were probing his puckered and virgin entrance. He groaned in pain as the first digit slide into his asshole, but he had no time to find relief; soon three fingers were scraping and forcing themselves around inside him. Each terrified gasp and groan only seemed to urge close man on.

"Here you go Arthur," close man whispered as he suddenly drove his entire package into the still painfully tight hole. The point man's body was on fire—he couldn't breathe, but he was screaming. He couldn't stop the screaming. It didn't even register until minutes later that the screams were his own.

Close man rammed into him for what felt like hours, while his body was being torn in two. Only twice did Arthur do anything besides yelp or curse, and those two moments were the most mortifying of his life—he had moaned in blissful pleasure. Whatever close-man had hit inside him, whatever that spot had been; it was perfect. Eames had noticed these quiet moments of satisfaction and burned with nothing short of fury that he hadn't been the one to cause them.

"Shut the little bitch up already, I'm sick of the noise!" One of the men holding Eames put a palm over one of his ears, and this was all the forger needed. He slide his wrist through the one hand holding it, and used his elbow to break the man's nose. The second guard hardly realized what had happened by the time he too was on the ground, nursing a dislocated shoulder.

"Cum for me baby, please? I just showed you how hot you make me… why can't you just be honest?" Close man was just about to go for round two when his vision went white and the back of his head seared in pain. Eames, after throwing the punch, took close man by the collar and tore him away from Arthur. Then, finding the knife that had been abandoned, he slit Arthur's throat, before slitting his own.

Arthur woke up to find himself on an airplane with the sun glaring into his eyes. He didn't notice as the tears began to roll down his face, but the moment Eames woke up, he did.

"Arthur…" the whisper was almost as gentle as a breath of air, but Arthur heard it and tensed his entire form. Eames rose from his chair, and roughly removed his IV. He took the few steps over to his beloved point man, and kneeled down. "Please… are you alright?"

"Never speak of this to anyone. If you do… I swear to God. Mr. Eames… I will… I'll…" Arthur couldn't finish his thought because moments later the rest of the team began to wake from the dream. The point man shoved the forger away before straitening his suit and wiping away all of his tears.

"Where did you two go? We were worried sick!" Cobb turned and pointedly glared at the two blurry eyed men, and realized what had been happening. "Were you two crying?"

"No. He might have been, but I was not. We were captured by Mr. Hurtz's subconscious and they tortured us for information, but we gave none, and finally we were able to kill ourselves." Arthur's voice was cold and mechanical, but even he could hear it was more so than normal. He tried to right the situation and added, "We're sorry we worried you."

"Oh God. I'm so sorry. Are you guys okay? Eames?" Dom was fawning over both of them for the rest of the flight—touching their arms and making sure they had water; frankly it was annoying the hell out of Arthur.

"Dom! Please, just relax. Nothing happened. We're fine." Arthur immediately excused himself after he said this and hurried to the first class restroom. Not before Ariadne gave him a small smile and a pat on the thigh—but she didn't expect the pained hiss and the resulting glare.

"Ariadne, could you and Yusef follow Arthur, and when he's done in the bathroom could you take him to the luggage area to fully pack up the PASIV?" Dom asked hurriedly. And, after the two nodded, he turned to Eames and began to whisper his concerns, "What really happened? Arthur is… more distant than normal. I know _you_ should know why."

"God Dom, I should've never told you about my little crush," joked Eames, but after he saw the concern he continued, "There was nothing I could do I swear. They brought me into the room after they had begun… and I didn't even realize what they had started. But, the torture wasn't exactly all physical for me, in fact, most of it was psychological. They made me watch him get raped. They… _touched _him… and _used _him. I just want to fucking tear them in half those mother fucking Basterds." Eames was breathing so heavily Cobb was sure he was going to pass out.

"They… Oh God." Dom couldn't even express the pain and guilt he felt for putting Arthur in that dream. Knowing that Hurtz liked men… like to _rape _men. His subconscious would do the same… and he didn't realize it.

"Dom, don't blame yourself. If anything be sorry for me. I'm sure he'll never forgive me, or even look at me ever again. I… I had a slight… _arousal problem_… when I saw him naked." The blush that flooded Eames' face was almost painful for Dom to watch.

Before Dom could reply, Arthur, Ariadne and Yusef reentered the room, Arthur still looking cold and aloof. Before anything was said Arthur turned and smiled at Eames; the smile was so momentary and so delicate that no one, hardly even Eames, saw it. But, Eames saw it, and he knew that things had a chance…


	3. Chapter 3

_**Before anything was said Arthur turned and smiled at Eames; the smile was so momentary and so delicate that no one, hardly even Eames, saw it. But, Eames saw it, and he knew that things had a chance…**_

They landed at the airport soon after putting the PASIV away, and Arthur hurriedly found his suitcase and left through security. Eames only managed a glimpse of the Pointman before he was gone, but he wasn't going to let this end easily—he needed to find Arthur and explain. Before Eames could continue he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and saw Dom behind him.

"Eames, I don't want you to scare him off. Just give him some time—knowing him he won't want to miss a job. I'll hire you guys on the next one and you can work it out then," Dom's small smile was enough assurance, and Eames nodded. But, the next seven weeks were hell on Earth; alone and with nothing but anticipation, Eames had sat in his apartment sipping Scotch and watching HBO.

Arthur on the other hand, had spent his seven weeks in a therapist's office—crying and trying to forget the things that had happened. Ms. Trent had been kind and reassuring, but not once had she actually understood what was being said. Unable to reveal the dream aspect, he could never finish his story, and she never wanted to press him.

"I know that you can't tell me what happened at the end, but I really think it would help me understand, Arthur," her smooth voice and warm brown eyes were lulling him to the point where he was almost ready to tell her. He knew that this would be his last meeting with her, at least until the next job was over, but he still didn't want to say. He apologized profusely and then informed her of the end of their time together. She just nodded and smiled politely—but he could tell she was disappointed; she'd been making headway during the last few visits.

Eames and Cobb had been discussing the job for days now, but Eames could never completely focus at the conversation on hand. More often than not, he spent his time staring at the desk that would soon be Arthur's. A dangerous temptation to wait there, day and night, until he arrived was pursuing Eames. Soon, this temptation didn't matter; Arthur walked into the warehouse on a Thursday afternoon at 2:34pm and smiled a chaste smile at the group before sitting down and organizing his desk.

Never in his life had Eames had more respect for someone. Arthur had walked in as though nothing was wrong; as though he had defeated his demons. Watching Arthur type away on a computer was not enough, Eames called Arthur over and offered to show him the new maps and details. Arthur, polite as ever, nodded his head quietly and followed along behind Eames for the rest of the day.

The forger had been sneaking glances at Arthur all day, and sometimes he managed to catch a wiff of the beautiful cologne he wore. No matter how often he was beside the man, he never wanted it to end. Finally, at the end of the day—when the rest of the crew had just left—he turned to his point man.

"Arthur, I—" Eames had begun to speak but was suddenly cut off by a pair of hesitant and moist lips. Arthur suddenly withdrew from Eames and began to apologize. But now it was his turn to be silenced by lips. The forger was much more powerful—forcing himself onto Arthur, and taking the flavor of the smaller man's lips into his mouth. He begged entrance with his tongue, and Arthur, gasping for air, hardly realized he had accepted the exploring appendage.

Pulling back, Eames looked down into Arthur's wide brown eyes and sighed, "I was going to say how much I've missed you. How sorry I am for what happened. How… you should've never seen me think that way. I'm sorry that I can't control myself. I'm sorry that I love you. I'm sorry—"

Arthur put a finger up to Eames' lips and began, "I'm not sorry that you were there to save me. I'm not sorry that I've missed you. And I'm not sorry that I just kissed you, Mr. Eames I'm not completely ready to let someone into my life like that yet, but… I think that maybe you could help me."

"I'll wait as long as you need me to. Until you're ready, Arthur darling."

Eames pulled Arthur close, and wrapped his arms around the point man. He put his chin on Arthur's head and breathed in a contented breath. He knew now that the smile on the plane was for him. All that the forger had ever wanted was here in his arms, and he would wait. Arthur's demons were still there, but through the tears and the anger, through the smiles and the struggles, he'd be there.

And he was.

**A/N Okay, so I know that ending totally sucked. I'm almost positive that I'm going to have an epilogue with either the first date, or the first bang… or something. I feel like this isn't done. And sorry for how short it is. **

**But thanks for the lovely reviews and for reading my dream 3 I love A/E so much it hurts! Hope you do too!**


	4. Their first time epilogue

Arthur was finally speaking to his therapist again, and Eames finally had peace. He felt Arthur begin to release all of the pain he'd been bottling up for weeks and was ecstatic when Arthur said he felt ready to become a couple. They would hold hands at work, and share long glances over their meals—but most importantly, Eames was allowed to _chastely_ kiss Arthur. Even though it was minimal, it was fantastic. Eames had never been more in love and more appreciative of the small gesture. He even began to savor their small intimate moments more than his former sex life. It was fulfilling to know the man trusted him so much.

It was one autumn afternoon that inspired Eames to continue their relationship—to improve upon the already brilliant.

Arthur had been rather affectionate lately; holding hands more often or allowing an abundance of kisses. So, when he and his boyfriend, Eames, were walking through the small and secluded park near his apartment building, he decided to be the one instigating the kisses.

After the kiss Eames had been completely stunned, "You… you kissed me."

"Yes, I guess I did…" the small smile toying at the Point man's lips was gorgeous, almost _edible. _So much so that Eames didn't even realize when he pulled the young man in and began to kiss with an impossible lust. He prodded with his tongue for entrance, and, when given it, nearly fainted with acceptance. For the next few minutes there was nothing in the world but their tongues and a dance dominated by Eames, and his complete lack of resignation.

Without realizing he had put down a wall, Arthur dove fully into the kiss and found himself in Eames' arms. Eames carried him to the apartment building and finally put him down while they were in the elevator. Here he shoved him up against a wall and began to fondle his abs and beautiful back. His hands were icy from wind outside, but Arthur bucked forward to meet them. Before long, the two had fumbled into his apartment and were on the floor.

Eames threw his shirt off, unaware of the buttons he had ripped, and soon had Arthur's strewn over the edge of the couch. When he landed on Arthur his body glowed in lust. The forger ran his hands along any crevice he could find, still lip-locked with the blissfully unaware Arthur, who, up until now, had been doing nothing but savoring the feeling of pent-up lust.

But, when Eames removed his jeans and sought for Arthur's, the young point man began to fidget nervously. Sadly, the forger noticed and slowly released his boyfriend, and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, love. It's so easy to find myself insatiable when you're in the equation." Eames stood up and put his hand out to Arthur, but before he could help him up, Arthur yanked him back down. With a small, but gruff, yelp Eames landed onto his Arthur.

"Please fuck me."

The words that Eames had been waiting months for were suddenly facing him, but he didn't know if he could take them. "Are you sure, darling? I don't want to do this if you aren't—"

"Shut up, and fuck me." Arthur put his arms around Eames and pulled him forward—lips colliding and bodies molding. Rolling over, the point man pushed Eames to the floor and began to remove his own pants. Skin to skin, boxers to boxers, Arthur let himself go completely and pulled their underwear off without a second thought. Eames growled with appreciation and adoration when he saw the lack of inhibition in Arthur's eyes and the way his disheveled hair and pouting lips almost screamed "take me".

Eames didn't let Arthur control the show for long and was soon the one on top—yet again moving his hands around his younger lovers. Only this time, he didn't want to just feel the young man, he wanted to be inside him. Jumping quickly over to his pants he pulled out a small bottle of lube and, feeling the look on his back, murmured, "A guy can hope", before slicking himself and his fingers.

Arthur laughed heartily but stopped when he felt Eames slowly and gently poking his entrance. Rather, he moaned, and only shivered when he felt his forger get even harder. Tensing as another finger entered him, he remembered he wanted this to feel good, and calmed. After all three fingers were rubbing his internal walls and, after a quick search, his prostate.

"Again! Eames, fucking right there!" Arthur's screams were all Eames needed to continue hitting that bundle of nerves repeatedly. Soon his fingers weren't enough. He needed to be inside Arthur. Fucking Arthur.

"Are you sure?"

"Do you even have to a-ask?" Arthur faltered when he felt his prostate being hit, yet again, by his amazing forger. Suddenly, and painfully, an entire length was jammed into his body. He groaned in pain and felt Eames stiffen in fear. "Keep going." His command was rushed and husky, but it did the trick. Soon he was being rammed into and pleasured by the most amazing man he had ever met. Whimpered, "I love you"s were coming from both men in between their pants and thrusts—Arthur kept meeting the member that was pulsating inside him.

Only minutes later, both men exploded and sighed, looking at each other and lying down. Both came down from the drastic high in their own time, and both continued to hold the other for hours to come. They didn't say a word until six pm when Dom knocked on the door and shouted out to Arthur.

"Arthur! I need you and you won't answer your phone, are you in?"

"One second Dom!" Dom stood on the other side of the door hearing Arthur shuffling around his apartment, sometimes swearing. Moments later a disheveled and pink lipped Arthur answered the door in his robe.

"Arthur…" Dom began questioningly, but almost seconds later he heard Eames cough behind the door and saw Arthur tense . "Oh, I see I've come at a rather awkward time… I'll… _come _by later, Arthur." Dom just smirked when he saw the point man blush at his crude joke. But, all Dom cared about was his closest friend, almost his son in some sense, was finally back to normal—finally _happy. _

**A/N- Small dabble. An afterthought to the events of "Stop". So that's why I put it as another chapter. Hope you liked it. I'm not great at sex scenes ): **

**But I might get some new Inception (another story line) up later in time… probably not for a few weeks though. Hope you enjoyed! R&R pwease :D**


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